Travel Through Time
by TypeName
Summary: Five year old Harry Potter time travels from 1985 to 1942. Tom Riddle's Fifth Year. Will it be his last time?
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

Chapter 1:

Harry Potter didn't feel safe.

The little five year old stared at the door of his cupboard with fear and apprehension.

He knew that as soon as his uncle came back, he'd give him another 'Lesson'.

He didn't mean to break Aunt Petunia's favourite teacup! Dudley pushed him off the stool when he was washing it! Of course, Uncle Vernon won't believe him. They never believed him. The lesson would only be longer because he'd lie and try to blame Dudley.

Suddenly, he heard the front door open.

He was home.

Uncle Vernon was home.

Harry felt his heart beat go faster as he stared wide-eyed at the door.

He heard Aunt Petunia talking to him.

He just wanted to go! He'd come back after they calmed down! He'd get her another teacup if he had the money. He just didn't want another lesson.

Suddenly, he felt something pulling him from his belly button.

Just like that, Harry Potter vanished from his cupboard.

His uncle would come and find that the boy was missing, even though the door was locked. The Dursleys would keep this a secret. They didn't want anyone to know they lost a child, or how the freak got out in the first place.

Tom sat on the chair by the fire. His 'friends' sat with him as they talked about what they did during the summer. Tom wasn't paying attention, though.

He was glad he was at Hogwarts, and away from those stupid muggles. But he was bored, too. He supposed since he was a prefect now, he could stay out all he wanted and look for the Chamber of Secrets, with patrolling as an excuse. Or he could go to the restricted section and read books on the Dark Arts. Maybe he'd find more information on horcruxes. And if he didn't, he was sure Slughorn—

Suddenly, he felt something fall on his lap. And yelp. He looked down.

It was a human. A _boy._

The boy looked up with wide eyes. He had _beautiful_ eyes. They were a brilliant emerald green. Killing curse green. He had messy black hair that semi-covered a curious lightning bolt scar.

"Um, uh, I'm sorry," the child said as he jumped of his lap. The child was wearing clothes three times his size.

He didn't even notice the murmurs and whispers until the child starting looking at everyone.

The boy came closer to Tom, who leaned forward, and whispered, "Excuse me, how did I get here?"

How _did _he come here?

"That's what I'd like to know," Tom murmured.

"One minute I was there and now I'm here," the child waved his hands around, whispering frantically, as if to demonstrate how it happened.

"Where were you before?"

"Uh, home," he noticed a flicker of fear in the green eyes. Why would he be afraid? Was he afraid of something there, that Tom was asking, or just this whole situation? If it were any other child, they'd cry and snot on themselves by now.

"What's your name?"

"Harry," he said shyly.

"Alright, Harry," Tom stood up, "Let's take you to the headmaster."

**A/N: So, what do you guys think? I have this whole thing in my head, but I don't know if I'm going to put it down in words properly. If you're wondering, Harry isn't going to be five forever. Later there'll be a teenage Harry. But not soon. I don't know, I'll see how everything works out. I'll just go with the flow :P. **


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.**

Chapter 2:

As they made their way to the headmaster's office, Tom observed the boy. Harry was fascinated by everything, especially the talking painting and portraits, which kept pointing at him in surprise.

He must be a muggle-born. Is that why he was afraid? Were his parents abusive because of his magic? He must do a lot of powerful accidental magic if this was one of them. It was impossible to apparate in and out of Hogwarts.

He realized the green eyes were staring back at him.

"What's your name?" Harry asked, quietly.

"Tom Riddle. Here we are," Tom said as they reached the office, "Caliber."

As the stairs started rotating, Harry held his robes from behind, irritating him, but he chose to ignore it. He knocked on the door, and heard a quiet, "Come in."

As he entered, he realized Dippet had a guest. Albus Dumbledore was sitting on one of the seats opposite Dippet.

"Tom, is something the matter?" Dippet asked.

He pulled out the hiding Harry from behind him, and enjoyed seeing the confusion on Dumbledore's face.

"Who is this child, Mr. Riddle?" Dumbledore asked, as both Professors stood up, and past headmasters and headmistress' 'woke up'.

"He appeared out of nowhere in the Slytherin common room."

"Maybe you should wait outside as we talk to the young man," Tom seethed as Dumbledore dismissed and smiled serenely towards Harry.

"Ah, yes, yes," Dippet said.

When Tom left, the two men turned towards Harry, and gestured for him to sit on the seat at the man with the red hair's right. He climbed on the chair with his help, as the other man sat down.

"What is your name, child?" asked the man who was losing his hair. One day, when he was at the Dursleys, he saw someone talk about being bald and using stuff that helped him grow his hair. Or was it to make his head shine? He didn't remember, but whatever it was, this man had to use it! Before it was too late!

Suddenly, a hand came up to scratch the almost baldhead he was staring at.

"My boy," a hand touched his arm. Harry turned to look at the man next to him, whose eyes were twinkling. They really were twinkling. Like stars. He suddenly had the urge to start singing a song he heard Aunt Petunia sing to Dudley.

"May you tell us your name?" the man smiled kindly.

"Oh, uh, Harry," he said quickly.

"And your last name?" the bald one asked.

"Potter. But my aunt, uncle, and cousin are Dursleys. I live with them," Harry said, swinging his legs, and looking around the room and the portraits.

"Potter?" the bald one exclaimed, as the other one asked, "Why do you live with them?"

Harry looked at the man with the red beard, "Because my parents died in a car crash."

"A car crash? That—"

The one with the beard interrupted, "How did you get here, Harry?"

"I don't know!" the boy said, wide eyed, "I was just sitting there, waiting for my uncle, and then I felt weird here," he pointed at his belly button, "and then I got here!"

The two men shared a look.

"Your belly button?" the bearded one asked, nicely. Harry nodded.

"Are you sure your last name is Potter, child? There are no Potters who died in the past five years."

"So, my parents are alive?" Harry sat up, staring at the bald one.

"Not necessarily," the bearded one looked at Harry thoughtfully, "What year is this, Harry?"

Suddenly, the bald one started laughing, "You can't be serious, Albus! He might just be a love child whose mother died!"

"You never know, Armando," Albus said, "What year is it, Harry?"

"1985."

Silence.

"How old are you?" asked Armando, looking shocked.

"Five."

"He's a child, Albus. How would he know the year?"

"I know the year! I'm not dumb! I heard my uncle and aunt say it! I see it everyday in my uncles newspaper, too!" Harry crossed his arm and jutted his chin out stubbornly.

"Do you mind writing down the numbers you saw on the newspaper?" Albus asked, and Harry shook his head.

Harry gasped and sat up on his knees as a parchment and a feather came out of nowhere.

"This is a quill, Harry. It's just like a pen," Albus explained as he handed it to Harry, who leaned on his forearm on the desk and concentrated on writing, eyebrows furrowed.

_1985_. It was messy, but it was right there on the paper.

"You say you were just sitting there, and then suddenly you travel through time?" Armando whispered, staring at Harry.

"Through time?" Harry asked, confused.

"Harry what I am about to tell you may be hard to understand," Harry nodded for Albus to continue, "This is the year of 1942. You came from 1985 to 1942. Not just from your home to Hogwarts. Do you understand?"

"1942?" Harry gasped, "How many years is that? It sounds like a lot! Is it a lot?"

"Yes, it is," Albus nodded, "It's 43 years."

Harry gasped, "That's a lot!" Albus and Armando nodded.

"But, how did I do it?" Harry asked quietly.

"Well, you're a wizard, Harry. And this is a magical school. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," Armando said.

"A wizard?" Harry gasped, "Uncle Vernon says magic doesn't exist!"

"Well, you're uncle must be a muggle, and he is quite wrong," Armando replied.

Harry seemed to be deep in thought, "So, my mum and dad were wizards too?"

"Well, since you last name is Potter, your father must be a wizard. I don't know about your mother. She could be anything; a pure-blood, half-blood, muggleborn, or even a muggle," Armando mused.

"What is that? Muggleborn and half-blood?"

"A muggleborn is a witch or wizard born from a muggle family, in other words, non-magical," Albus explained, "and a half-blood is a witch or wizard born from a muggle or muggleborn and a pureblood, which is a witch or wizard born from a family which never married muggles. Do you understand?" Harry nodded.

"Do you want to try something, Harry?" Albus asked, looking thoughtful.

Harry nodded, "I want you to try and make that quill fly, okay?"

"Make it fly?" Harry gaped at the quill. Somehow, it looked bigger and heavier.

"Yes, Harry. Try."

Harry concentrated, trying to imagine it fly. Maybe it wasn't working because he didn't think it could? But then how else did he get here, if he's not a wizard? Aunt Petunia and Uncle Vernon always got mad when something weird happened around him. It was magic. That one time, he broke one of Aunt Petunia's plates because Dudley pushed him off the stool – he kept doing that – and it fixed itself. Aunt Petunia wasn't happy and Uncle Vernon gave him another lesson. But it was magic. Suddenly, the quill rocketed towards the ceiling.

"Excellent!"

"Outstanding!"

"That was quite impressive."

"What a wonderful boy!" the portraits spoke around them and Harry beamed.

"See, Harry?" Albus smiled, "You are a wizard. And a very good one, too. Not many children your age could have accomplished that."

"Really?" Harry asked, amazed.

"Yes," Albus smiled kindly.

"Now about getting back to his own time; should we inform the ministry?" Armando asked.

"Don't worry, Harry. We'll try to find a way to get back home," Albus said. Then he turned to Armando, "There's no need to tell the ministry. They'll just keep him in a room and observe him," Armando nodded.

"Harry, do you want to stay with one of us or Tom?"

"Armando, do you think that is wise?"

"He'd probably be more comfortable with Tom, Albus," Albus stayed quiet, but he looked troubled.

"Tom," Harry answered immediately. They seemed nice, but he's never been around a _teenager_ before.

"Okay," Armando nodded, "But you must understand, child, that no one must know about your time traveling or your name."

"I told Tom my name!"

"Your last name too?"

"No, just Harry."

Armando and Albus breathed out, relieved, "Good. That's good. What do you want your last name to be here? Dursley?"

Harry immediately shook his head. He was trying to remember his mother's last name. He remembered a few times when Aunt Petunia's old friends saw her. They asked is she was Petunia… Evan? No, no! It was, "Evans!" Harry exclaimed.

Albus chuckled as Armando started.

"That was my mom's last name," Harry beamed proudly. Harry was oblivious to the sympathetic looks he was receiving, blinded by his achievement.

"Okay," Armando nodded, "But if any one asked, your mother is the pure-blood. Evans isn't a pure-blood name. So, that would make you a half-blood, child,"

"How about Harrison Evans?" Harry nodded, "That's fine."

**A/N: Thank you so much to everyone who reviewed, favorited, and followed this story! I really appreciate it! I hope you like this chapter. I tried to make it ****interesting :P.**

**A/N 2: Hello again! Someone pointed out a mistake in this chapter and I just fixed it. I'm sorry :S. And thank you to whoever it was!**


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